


4E 201, 10th Last Seed

by Saquira



Series: The MoT Elder Scrolls 'verse [11]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:58:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saquira/pseuds/Saquira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You're calling in favour's from Maven Black-Briar to have your foster-daughter brought to Skyrim?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	4E 201, 10th Last Seed

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on June 19th, 2012 on chorrol.com. Notes pertaining to the series The Man With Green Eyes, by which I mean non-canon info about currency, the characters and the timeline, can be found on www.scitasystory.wordpress.com. Almost all of my fanfiction has been posted there, and though I'm currently working on uploading every piece of this particular series to ao3, I won't be be uploading all of my notes.

Maven Black-Briar had just dipped the quill in ink and was about to start writing when she could see, in her peripheral, that her personal guard had just frozen. The plant by the window no longer swayed, and the dust motes hung like from a spider-web in the air. Looking up, she was greeted by the sight of an Altmer in the leather armor usually worn by the Thieves guild. So she sighed, and moved the quill so that ink wouldn't drip on the papers in front of her.  
  
“Why does every rumor-mongering scoundrel in the city speak of Saerdur's heading on an expedition into the mountains, when I'm certain that the Jarl put him in house-arrest?” he asked her as he walked up to one of the book-shelves and looked at the titles.  
  
“And why would I know that?” she responded, watching him closely as he made his way around the room. The high elf turned to her with a smile.  
  
“Why? You know everything that goes on in Riften, whether it's illegal or not.” Putting his hands on her desk, he leaned in close until their foreheads were a mere inch apart. Maven, though flustered, didn't flinch.  
  
“A favor for a friend, you'll have to ask Dar'Ilthi if you want to know more. I didn't ask for the specifics,” she said, staring into his eyes with a grim expression.  
  
“Maybe I'll do just that,” he said with another smile and stood up straight, making sure he hadn't dropped anything.  
  
“It's a handy trick that, halting time,” she said in a bored manner, and he looked back at her.  
  
“Why yes, I suppose it is.” He cast a glance at the guard. “Handy when you don't want anyone to know of your meeting.”  
  
“Yes. Which is why you won't use it again.” She stared at him. He flashed a charming smile her way, and then he was gone, time back to normal.  
  
The guard looked at Maven when she didn't write anything, and noticed the small puddle of ink that had collected on the desk. His brow furrowed in concern at this, as he was quite certain that puddle had not been there moments earlier. Then she turned her narrowed eyes at him, and he quickly resumed his former position.  
  
* * *  
  
Dar'Ilthi, being the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, though having her chambers further into the sanctuary than any other guild-member, never trusted completely in her safety. So it was that when she felt the change in the atmosphere of her room, she did not become startled, but merely calculated the strength with which she'd have to throw the book she was holding. She was at that moment lying on her bed, in the process of reading a rather large tome. She could feel the bump of the ebony dagger underneath her pillow, and she was very much aware of who had just entered her private chambers, uninvited.  
  
Throwing the book at him with her left hand, she simultaneously grabbed the dagger in her right a mere moment before she flew at him. While in the air she heard the magical discharge that meant his ward had been disabled for the moment and then she was on his chest on the floor, dagger up against his neck.  
  
“Guildmaster,” Dar'Ilthi snarled after a minutes silence, before she stepped of him and pulled the high elf to his feet.  
  
“Listener,” he responded and patted his clothing as if to get the dust of them.  
  
“No need to do that here. We keep our floors clean, unlike some.” She was staring at him when he looked up, taking a moment to decide whether or not he should ignore the remark.  
  
“One day, you're going to get me killed with those tricks of yours. I don't think Maven would like that very much.” His voice was as carefree as ever when he next spoke.  
  
“On the contrary, I think she'd cheer me on.” Dar'Ilthis' comment brought a chuckle to the Altmer's lips. She smiled slightly herself, before her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. “What do you want?”  
  
“Information. Why have Maven spread rumors that Saerdur Lawgiver is on a expedition to the Jerall Mountains, when he's clearly in house-arrest?” the man asked and leaned against the wall leisurely.  
  
“Why do you care?” the Listener asked with a sigh, walking so that she could sit on her desk.  
  
“I'm simply curious,” he answered.  
  
“You're the one person I'm sure never is 'simply curious'.” Dar'Ilthi stared at him, taking her hair in her hands and braiding it over again.  
  
“Nevertheless, I want to know,” he said with a smile that exposed his fangs. Merely glancing at them, Dar'Ilthi placed the dagger down onto the desk, and arose from it. She walked slowly up to him, one hand on her hip. With a sly smile, she then leaned in so that her mouth came close to his ear, something that was no easy feat thanks to his height.  
  
“Are you sure I cannot discourage you from this?” she purred, putting one of her hands lightly on his arm.  
  
“Quite.” The Altmer took her wrist in a hard grip to stop her from going further, and the seductive way in which she held herself was gone faster than it had come. They stood there, staring daggers at each other, for a few moments.  
  
“Pity,” she snarled, wringing her hand from his grip, and stepped back a few steps. “It's family business, which means that it isn't yours.”  
  
“Oh really, I wasn't aware that you had any family...” he trailed of with a smirk.  
  
“Not all of us has centuries for a lifetime, who will remember me if I don't leave a legacy, hm?”  
  
“I will. But then again I probably wouldn't go around talking about you,” the Altmer sighed. “Care to satisfy my curiosity yet?” She frowned.  
  
“Not really, no. But I suppose that is the only way to get rid of your ugly face,” she smiled with her lips, while her eyes were still glaring.  
  
“Naturally,” he answered her and winked, causing her to tilt her ears back slightly.  
  
“I need to get my foster-daughter to Skyrim. She is a member of the Imperial legion, so the only way to get her here would be for them to send her. But because she's a forester, I doubt they'd send her to help with the war. Thus, I'm arranging to have her brought here,” Dar'Ilthi said, and the Altmer raised an eyebrow. “Her being accused for murder ought to be enough for the empire too hand her over.” The khajiit shrugged as if though it was the most natural thing in the world, and went to sit down on her desk.  
  
“You're calling in favour's from _Maven Black-Briar_ to have your foster-daughter brought to Skyrim?” he asked incredulously, and she shrugged again.  
  
“It's important that she gets here.”  
  
“Obviously.” The Altmer stood staring into the air for a few seconds before he shook his head and sighed.  
  
“Well, I've ought to get going. Don't get your foot trapped in a bear-trap,” he said, and a moment later everything was back to normal, Dar'Ilthi alone in her room, shaking her head and sighing.


End file.
